


The Scars We Can't Contain

by Scotty1609



Series: Old Stories, Old Scars [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: A Fix-it to my own fic, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Amputee Hunk (Voltron), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attacks, Blind Lance (Voltron), Blindness, Burned Keith (Voltron), Character Study, Cyborg Shiro (Voltron), Druid Pidge (Voltron), Everybody Gets a Hug, Family Feels, Feels, Fix-It, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mentions of Smut, Minor Character Death, Paladins Need Love, Paladins as family, Past Brainwashing, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prosthesis, Scars, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Space family, established relationships - Freeform, everybody needs a hug, no actual smut, paladin bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 09:09:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10084202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scotty1609/pseuds/Scotty1609
Summary: The paladins have gathered many scars over their years fighting for the multiverses. This is how they learn to deal with those scars.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'M SO SORRY IT'S TAKEN ME THIS LONG TO UPDATE  
> I've been bogged down with college and work, and honestly just uninspired... I've been drawing a lot more, too, which is good. If you wanna see my Voltron fanart, you can see it here: http://scotty-1609.tumblr.com/ (I've only posted like 3 pics)  
> I re-wrote Lance's story in this fic like five times so I hope you like it, you fluff maniacs. (Also, Lance calls himself the 'token blind friend' which is somewhat derogatory towards himself, but that's the point. His inner torment)
> 
> WARNINGS: PTSD, flashbacks, self-hatred, referenced self-harm, language

******//brave//**

**one year after**

 

Keith had thought- had hoped- that they would never see the Dryzikards again. The shame that had overwhelmed him for weeks after his botched attempt to rescue the young Dryzikard girl still hid deep within him, behind his ribs in a place that settled like a weight at the bottom of a lake. Lance had tried to convince him it wasn't his fault- boy, had the blue paladin tried. And Keith had tried to accept it. But there was a part of him that couldn't, a part of him that still saw the burning, fiery face of the poor child when he closed his eyes at night. On more than one occasion, Keith had woken up screaming with Lance's hands on his chest and face, trying to soothe the red paladin down from his shift.

So Keith hoped to never see the Dryzikards again in his supposedly short life. The universe, however, was a mistress crueler than fate. This was how Keith found himself standing in front of the Dryzikards' leader with Hunk at his side. The chosen diplomats for their mission, Keith and Hunk were at the base of operations for the new found rebellion against Zarkon.

The peoples' leader was a tall and proud female. She stood at least two feet taller than Keith, with an ombre of purple and blue scales over her body. A mane of yellow and orange feathers surrounded her neck and where Keith supposed ears would have resided.

Their language was a sonorous sort of tongue, sounding like chirping tunes intermingling with long bouts of soprano. The paladins' helmets translated easily enough though, so the leader's voice rang through in perfect English.

“Welcome to our new homeland, Paladins of Earth and Fire,” the female greeted them with a low bow. “My name is Illyariz, and I am the chieftan of the Dryzikard people.”

“It's an honor to make your acquaintance,” Hunk told Illyariz in complete honesty. It was something Keith admired about the yellow paladin. Hunk had an innate sense of honesty and purity about him, even after all the years of warfare the team had gone through. “I am Hunk, and this is my comrade Keith.”

Illyariz's eyes lit up in recognition when her eyes laid prey on Keith. Keith shuffled under the gaze, blinking up at Illyariz uncomfortably. “Paladin of Fire,” she said in her proud voice, “I know a woman who wishes to meet you.”

And then the crowd of Dryzikard councilmen was parting, and a familiar blue-scaled, orange-feathered woman was entering the area. Keith felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach, and that familiar sense of guilt behind his ribs lit up with a fierceness, like a match to a flame.

“I am Myrtallu,” the female spoke. “You tried to save my daughter, Paladin of Fire.” Keith wanted to melt. “And I... wish to thank you.”

Feeling his spine stiffen, Keith's throat closed up as he gaped. His mouth opened and closed like a fish glubbing for several moments before he discovered his voice had left him. So, with a nod to Myrtallu, Keith listened closely.

“I wished to thank you,” the female repeated, taking a step closer to Keith. The red paladin only just managed not to retreat at the advance. “I never suspected a warrior to be capable of such kindness... And, I must admit, I never suspected a Galran warrior capable of such tenderness.” A webbed hand reached out, gently touching Keith's forearm. “So thank you, Paladin of Fire. You braved the flames to save my child, and suffered greatly from it.”

“My appearance isn't worth a life,” Keith managed to choke out. “And I- I'm so, so sorry, Myrtallu. I wasn't able to save your daughter...”

“Her name was Yzumi,” Myrtallu confided in him. “And she would be so happy to have such a brave warrior attempt to save her. She was a kind child, compassionate to a fault... She would understand your attempt, young as she was, and she would be proud.”

Tears were welling in Keith's eyes, but he forced himself not to wipe them away. “I... I don't understand. You should hate me. I failed you. I let your daughter die.”

“No, child,” Myrtallu quickly spoke. Her hand cupped Keith's helmet, as though she were trying to caress his face. “No. Never failed. You did not _let_ my daughter die. You charged into the flames, sacrificed your armor to try and save her. You _fought_ for her, which is much less than I can say for a frail old woman like myself...”

“No-”

“ _Yes_ ,” Myrtallu insisted. She brought something out from a hidden pouch at her hip, enclosing what felt like beads in Keith's palm and holding his fist closed with both of her hands. “You may not see it for yourself, but you are a hero, Paladin of Fire. You embraced death to save another, a life that others would have forgone as meaningless.” Tears were falling down the female's cheeks now, and Keith felt wetness on his own scarred skin as Myrtallu continued to speak. “She would have wanted her savior to have this. It was her Charm. Each Dryzikard has one- hers was of Bravery.”

Her hands retreated, and Keith looked down at the beads in his hand. A necklace, he realized as he stared at it. What would have been a long necklace on a child would be a choker on a man, with glossy turquoise and yellow beads lining the chain. A main bead, larger than the others, had two swirls accenting two parallel lines. Keith's tongue was dry in his mouth as he pocketed the necklace, nodding to Myrtallu. He couldn't speak, but the female seemed to understand. She bowed deeply before giving Keith parting words: “Keep your compassion and embrace your bravery, my Paladin.”

As soon as they finished signing the alliance entreaty, Keith and Hunk left for their lions and the Castleship. Keith had a minor panic attack on the way back, but Red's crooning purr helped soothe his anxiety and fear. Closing his eyes, Keith embraced the warm mental caress of his lion.

When they arrived back at the Castle, Keith realized that Hunk must have contacted Lance, because the blue paladin dragged his lover back to their shared room. Slowly, gently, they made love as Lance kissed the tears away from Keith's cheeks, whispering sweet nothings to him and caressing his scars with as much love as he could muster.

Keith wore the choker daily. He only took it off to shower and sleep, and it went right back on after both activities. Lance had once commented on it being hot, and Keith had smacked him upside the head. As each day went by, blending into weeks which melded into months, Keith found that the heavy weight behind his ribs was slowly ebbing away. Instead, there was a lightness in his throat, a glittering feeling behind the beat of his blood through his neck. He would absent-mindedly touch the choker and rub the symbol on it. And slowly, his thoughts drifted less and less to Yzumi's burning face, and more to Myrtallu's gentle smile.

It was nearly a year later when Keith realized he hadn't had a nightmare in weeks. He touched the choker, smiling to himself, before continuing on about his day.

 

**//represent//**

**one year two months after**

 

They touched down on Jotaz some time later, their goal being the 'Space Mall'. Lance had come down with an odd case of an Altean flu-like illness courtesy of playing with Coran's bio-hazardous test-tube samples, and they needed to get the herbs necessary to create medicine for his fast recovery. It was either the space mall or adventuring into the underbelly swamp of a Lorkzart rock lizard, so the paladins decided the space mall would be a better choice. And the closest one (within friendly territory) was on the small tundra planet of Jotaz. So, Pidge and Hunk set out for the mall and left Shiro to deal with strategy and Keith to deal with his whiny lover.

As soon as the mouth of the green lion opened and the cold Jotazean air filtered in to the cockpit, Hunk flinched. He could never get used to the cold after he lost his legs. Sure, he had amazing replacement prosthesis courtesy of Coran and Pidge (tailored by himself), and sure, he could still watch snow fall in training simulations with a smile. But as soon as the icy chill touched his skin, he was whirling back into the blackness of a cold death.

A small hand touched his own, interlacing their fingers, and Hunk jumped. Looking down, he saw Pidge smiling up at him weakly. The green paladin said nothing, but her head was cocked to the side and her brow was furrowed in concern. Hunk chuckled and shook his head, poking the young woman's forehead in thanks. “I'm fine,” he told her in a hushed tone before the two made their way into the mall.

Finding the herbs was easy enough, but bartering for them was the hard part. Pidge was much too aggressive at bartering, which often led to fights breaking out rather than prices being lowered. Which left Hunk to deal with the shifty-eyed older alien who was snarling possessively over her herbs.

“Twenty!” Hunk offered.

“Forty!” the female insisted.

“Twenty-five.”

“ _Thirty-five_.”

“ _Thirty_!”

Growling, the alien's four arms tightened around the small burlap sack before relaxing. She sighed and withdrew, opening one of her hands to the yellow paladin. “Thirty.”

“Yeah!” Hunk cheered as they left the shop, fist-bumping Pidge as the green paladin congratulated him on his 'diplomacy skills'. They walked through the mall with relaxed shoulders. Mission done, they could now return home and-

A hand pulled on the hem of Hunk's pants.

Voltron had become somewhat of a celebrity amongst certain freed galaxies, some planets even going so far as to erect statues or hang posters in their honor. Lance found it entirely too amusing. So it was not odd for one of the paladins to be stopped while in public, especially if they were in their armor. Although not in his armor at the current time, Hunk had seen a few posters of him and the others around the mall, and the yellow paladin knew before he even looked down that there was going to be a child next to his knee.

It was the cutest little tentacled alien Hunk had ever seen, and he couldn't help but mentally compare them to Cthulhu. With six tentacles drawn together for legs, the child had two human-esque arms and the biggest black eyes Hunk had ever seen. Little wings settled on either side of their head, and they flitted excitedly as the child looked up at him. They clicked away in a language foreign to Hunk, pointing eagerly to his legs. Covered by pants, the prosthesis could not be seen. How did the child know...?

Curious, Hunk lifted up one of his pants legs a little to show off his robotic ankle. A happy trill came from the alien child and they clapped, spinning in a circle before coming to rest with Hunk's hand in their own. Pidge was looking rather amused at this point, her arms crossed as she watched the yellow paladin and child interact. Hunk was good with kids, despite being an only child himself, but he looked slightly lost at the alien's reaction to his legs.

But then the child turned and pointed to where two tentacles were missing from their side. Where eight limbs should have supported them, there were only six. Clapping and chirping, the child gestured between Hunk's legs and their own limbs before hugging one of his legs tightly.

A pang of pride and sorrow hit Hunk's heart like a truck. He gently hugged the alien back, patting her head. “Um... Where's your mom? Or dad? Or guardian...?” It was the only thing he could think to say as the child held tightly to his pant leg and swayed back and forth.

As if on cue, a figure who looked like a larger version of the alien child slid up to Hunk and began apologizing in broken English. “I sorry for my daughter intrude.”

“No, no! Not at all,” Hunk grinned, crouching to be face-to-face with the kid. “She's been sweet.”

“You favorite paladin of her.”

A blush broke out over the yellow paladin's features, and Pidge was fighting off laughter.

“Because legs,” the female alien continued, and Pidge fell silent. “Galra attack our village, my daughter injure. Hurt her limb. Two gone. You have limb gone, too. Two limb. Like my daughter. She look up, admire to you. Leg of Voltron, support friend and team with no leg of own. Admirable,” the female smiled at him. “My daughter's words, not mine. You favorite paladin of her.”

“She's my favorite fan,” Hunk responded, patting the child's head once more. She gave another trill and twirled before leaving what must have been a kiss on Hunk's cheek with the sucker of one of her tentacles. “You behave now, alright, kiddo?”

A trill. A twirl. Hunk grinned.

As the mother-child duo walked off, Hunk felt tears coming on. Pidge's hand came to rest on the man's shoulder, and he looked at her with glossy eyes. “She was right, y'know,” the green paladin told him with a small smile. “You're one of the biggest supports on our team.” Hunk blushed and shook his head, but before he could object, Pidge spurred on, “You're always cooking for us and making sure we're all healthy and happy, and you're always there when one of us needs something. Big or little, it's you we go to when we need comfort... Even Shiro.” This much Hunk knew to be true, and it only made his blush deepen. Pidge grinned and took the man's hand once more. “C'mon, Leggy, let's get back to the ship.”

“I'm a leg...” Hunk said quietly to himself, to which Pidge laughed.

“No, Hunk. You're _our_ leg.”

 

**//guide//**

**five months after**

 

His optical nerves were too damaged to create a connection between a prosthetic to his brain. They could have performed a surgery to give him artificial nerves alongside the glass eyes Hunk and Pidge had forged for him, but he didn't want anyone poking around inside of his brain like that. Especially no one on his team, all of whom he _knew_ were not certified brain-techs. Sure, they all had basic grasps on anatomy, and sure, Hunk and Coran and Pidge could _probably_ pull it off, but the odds weren't in Lance's favor in any case. Any case besides the one where he didn't get prosthetic eyes.

So, he was blind.

Okay. Cool... He could do this.

Coran had regaled Lance of tales about the previous green paladin, a female Altean who was deaf. She was the best flier of all of them, Coran insisted, and she was an amazing shot with her bow and arrow bayard. Lance had responded, “You don't need ears to fly.”

“Perhaps you do not even need eyes,” Coran had spoken back in that tone that showed he knew way more than he was telling. The Altean man was wise beyond any of them, despite his goofy personality, and often had advice hidden in the tales he spun. Lance was having issues reading past the lines this time though.

Most days, one of the others would lead him around. Keith took him to the training room where Lance would lift weights and learn to listen to his enemy's movements. Hunk had joked about Lance becoming Daredevil, and the blue paladin had flipped him off (good naturedly, of course). Pidge tried to create goggles that would talk to Lance and tell him what was in the room around him, give him walking directions and so on, but the robotic voice in Lance's ear made his ADHD go off the wires. Shiro practiced meditation with Lance, which actually managed to help his ADHD and his frustration. The black paladin had tried once to talk to Lance about his _feelings_ , and Lance had shot back with a blind joke. Shiro had merely sighed and shook his head, not that Lance knew of the second action.

It was Hunk who formulated the best plan of action.

“A walking cane?”

“It's a walking _stick_ ,” Hunk objected, handing over said stick to his friend. “You know, the kind that people tap around to feel what's in front of them?”

“Sooo you _willing_ gave me an excuse to whack all of you in the ankles.”

A sigh. “ _Lance_.”

The stick came in handy, Lance had to admit, and he even learned via Keith how to utilize it as a weapon when he didn't have his bayard. Which only brought up another thing... His bayard.

Flying wasn't an issue- all of the paladins had, within the first six months of forming Voltron, learned to 'see' through their lions' eyes. Lance had assumed he would have issues forming Voltron, flying Blue, fighting in his mecha. But it ended up to be the _least_ of his worries, what with the blue lion's instinctively compassionate nature. She joked with him about his blindness and scars, had taken to calling him her “ _Bonita_ boy”. It made Lance grin to hear the words rumbled in the back of his mind, and it made him whoop and holler when he 'saw' through Blue's eyes. It wasn't normal sight though. It was... shapes. Grey-scale. It were as though the world was painted in hues of gray and hidden inside of a water bottle. Everything was blurry at best, but he could still 'see' well enough to tell the difference between a Galran warship and a fellow lion.

So the issue wasn't flying or forming Voltron, to everyone's relief. The issue was Lance's bayard.

Bayards took the form that best fit their paladin. Allura had commented that she was positive Lance's bayard would change to short-range to befit him, but when the blue paladin materialized his weapon, the familiar touch of a laser-gun met his hands. He had fled the training room and had a panic attack in the communal showers after that. When Keith finally soothed him, the red paladin announced that he would be training Lance in hand-to-hand combat.

So Lance _did_ sort of become Daredevil. He used his senses of hearing, smell, and touch to help himself through a room (although his stick was still his main source of guidance), and he grew to anticipate the movements of his sparring partner. He could fight- _shakily_ , but still- he could run around, could still do cartwheels and be _Lance_... But he couldn't be their sharp-shooter. He could be their token boy from Cuba, their token blind friend, but he couldn't _contribute_ anymore.

He was the seventh wheel once more.

“Why me, Blue?” Lance moaned dramatically one day as he entered the hangar. Amping up his true emotions to seem over-the-top was a coping smokescreen that Lance used quite often. “Why _me_?” the blue paladin groaned again, laying down on top of the lion's paw. A rumble echoed through the hanger, Blue's response filtering into his mind.

_'You were made for great things, my **bonita** boy.'_

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?”

_'Are you truly reverting to your self-pitying youth because of a small stepping stone?'_

“ _Small_?” Any trace of sarcasm was gone from Lance's voice, replaced by wet anger. “ _Small_?! Being _blind_ isn't a _small_ stepping stone, Blue. It's a fucking mountain!”

_'You would pity yourself for your gift?'_

“ _Gift_?! Whatever secrets you're keeping, Blue, I'd _love_ to know about them. Especially these fucking stones and goddamn gifts you're talking about.”

_'Calm down, **bonita** boy.'_

“Was that sarcasm I detect?”

If Blue could smile, Lance was positive she would be grinning. _'You can still fly.'_

“But I can't fight.”

_'You have been fighting with your fire boy for months.'_

“I can't _shoot_ , Blue. That was my _thing_. I'm the team's sharp-shooter!” Face falling, Lance kicked at the floor and settled back against the blue lion's paw. He slid to the floor, lifting a hand to his hair and tugging on short bangs. “I _was_ the team's sharp-shooter... What am I now?”

_'You are my paladin. I will have no other.'_

“Blue-”

Before Lance could finish his objection, the doors to the hanger opened. Keith entered, smelling sweaty and breathing heavily. Lance could hear the aluminum of a water pouch crackling in his lover's hand, and he lifted his palm up to intercept the pouch as it was thrown to him. “Hey,” Keith said shortly as he slid his back down Blue's paw to settle in next to his boyfriend.

“Hey. Training already over?”

“Yup.” Keith took a swig of water. “Why weren't you there? Shiro wasn't happy.”

“Thinking.”

Lance could _feel_ Keith's stare. “Thinking... Want to elaborate?”

“... What do I bring to the team, Keith?”

“What the hell kind of question is that?”

Lance scoffed, taking a sip of water. “Thanks.”

“I mean it!” Keith exclaimed, sounding agitated. “Why are you even thinking like that again? I thought we sorted this shit out ages ago.”

“That was _then_ , Keith,” Lance faced his lover, his lips down-turned. “This is _now_. Now, the team has a brave leader, a two brainy tech-wizards, a courageous fighter pilot... and a blind sharp-shooter. A _blind_. _Sharp. Shooter_. Tell me those things can go together, Keith.”

“They _can_ , Lance-”

“How?! How exactly?!” Rage was building up behind Lance's breastbone at his lover's blatant lie. Keith wasn't gentle, it wasn't in his coding. But he was honest. Hearing any sort of dishonesty come from Keith... It set Lance on edge. It made him _mad_. “Don't lie to me, Keith. I know a broken person when I see one- for a lack of better words- and I _am_ a broken person, Keith. I'm worthless. I-”

And then there was an open hand colliding with his cheek, and Lance's head snapped to the side. Air rushing out of him, Lance fell silent as Keith took his turn shouting. “You aren't worthless, dumbass!” the red paladin raved. “You're- you're- you're _you_ , Lance! You're a pain in the ass but funny, and you're a loser but cool, and _you're_ the one that Pidge goes to when she's homesick, and _you're_ the one who talks Shiro out of his self-deprecating monologues, and _you're_ the one who Hunk goes to first when he creates new recipes...” Keith had calmed a little, his hand caressing the red mark on Lance's cheek in apology. “ _You're_ the one who I love, the one who loves me... You have so much worth, Lance, and you don't even see it...”

Tears welled in Lance's eye, and he blinked them away fiercely, rubbing at his damp nose. “Goddammit, Keith, why do you have to be so fucking perfect at the most inopportune times?”

“We're one in the same, I guess,” the red paladin teased, knocking his forehead into his lover's and leaving a peck on Lance's lips.

_One in the same... One... Two becoming one... Wait. **Wait**._

“Keith. Keith, say that again.”

“We're... one in the same?”

Lance began to vibrate with excitement, and he began frantically groping around for his walking stick. When he found it, he snatched it up and stood, hefting Keith to his feet. “Why didn't I think of this before?! I mean, it's such a _good idea_! And we can all _totally_ pull it off, because we're both totally badass, aren't we, Blue?” Blue rumbled in Lance's ears, and the blue paladin punched the air with glee. “Yeah!”

“Um... Want to share this great idea?” Keith inquired, to which Lance lifted and spun his boyfriend around, pecking Keith's cheek with his lips.

“Keith, one in the same, two becoming one, _seeing through each others' eyes_! Blue! Me and Blue! If Blue can fly around a battlefield, I can see through her eyes! She can show me where the enemies are, where to shoot!”

“Lance...” Keith was hesitant. “I thought you said you could hardly see through Blue?”

“ _That,_ my dear fuzzy-wuzzy-kins, is where our ingenious Engineer and Programmer come in!”

Pidge and Hunk listened to Lance's ranting, shared looks, and then pushed their heads together for a good five minutes. When they looked back to Lance and Keith, both paladins were grinning. “We can do it!” Hunk beamed. “Lance, if we can update Blue's sensors to have three-dimensional displays within her Multiversal Positioning System-”

Pidge finished for him, “-then we can sharpen the image she projects into your mind! It won't be perfect...”

“It will be,” Lance insisted. “It will be, because it'll be Blue and it'll be you two and- and- when can we start?”

It _wasn't_ perfect overall, the image fuzzy and the heat signatures inverted because of botched coding, but it made Lance sob all the same. He stayed on the ground while Blue flew in the sky, projecting images into his brain of the targets Allura and Coran had positioned all around the Castleship. And Lance managed to hit every one with his bayard. None of them were bulls-eyes of course, but they were hits. It was something. It was _everything_.

Lance didn't have his eyes back, but he didn't need them. He was a Paladin, and he had his Lion to guide him.

 

**//essence//**

**two years after**

 

Another SOS, another evacuation, another mission well-had. The planet of Yarkspur had sent out an emergency broadcast, so desperate for help as their planet fell to pieces that they risked even the Galra finding them. Yarkspur looked like a massive radioactive dump, with metal machine and ship parts littering the ground as though they were trees and foliage. The sky was a burning ombre of green and orange, and the smell was strongly reminiscent of sulfur and blood. A quick tox-scan showed that the atmosphere would melt off the paladins' skin if they abandoned their helmets, so they all made sure to suit up properly for this one.

“What kind of race could even live here?” Lance croaked as he was bombarded by the smell. “ _Dios mio_ , I can't deal with this smell!”

Shiro winced in sympathy. Ever since Lance had lost his sight, his other senses had gotten stronger. Shiro of course couldn't detect the stench around them- one of the things to go during his so-called ' _transformation_ ' was his sense of smell. At times like this, it was a blessing, but it made Shiro want to cry when he could no longer remember the scent of Matt's cologne or his mother's curry...

“Try using your filtration system,” Pidge replied to Lance, shaking Shiro from his pitying thoughts. “I updated them before we left the Ship.”

“I _am_ using it,” Lance grumbled. “Let's just get this done ASAP and I'll go bathe in lavender bath salts with my fiance.”

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith sputtered, making Pidge groan and Hunk laugh.

“Let's go, guys,” Shiro told them as he landed the black lion. “We have to be quick- those asteroids are coming in hot.”

According to Coran, they had a time-span of a little over half an earth hour to evacuate the entire planet. It was a good thing that there was only one civilization on it, then. A civilization that was apparently invisible, the paladins discovered, as the only thing for miles was garbage.

“You're sure this is where the SOS came from?” Shiro asked Allura.

“ _Positive. The Yarkspians are a shy race- perhaps they are hiding.”_

“Hiding,” Keith huffed. “Great.”

“HELLOOO! MY NAME IS _LANCE_. WE ARE PAL-A-DINS! WE COME IN PEA- _ouch_ , Keith!”

But the shouting worked, because suddenly dozens of robotic rolly-pollys were rolling towards them, chittering and unfurling into massive beasts that stared down a good two feet at Shiro. The black paladin balked. Over the past several years of being lost to space, he had seen many an alien. Tall, short, slimy, scaly, ones that had eight legs and ones that slithered around on their bellies- but never had he seen a kind of alien like the Yarkspians.

They were obviously robots, their metal underbellies and centipede-like limbs shining in the glow of nearby stars. Red glass eyes stared down at Shiro as a mouth siphoned open to trill at him. “I am Klank.” It was a mechanical voice, like words had been pre-programed into him and he was trying mimic Shiro's tone of voice at the same time. Klank failed miserably of course, but they tried.

“Klank,” Shiro spoke evenly despite his confusion. Who built these robots? Were they sentient? Were _these_ the Yarkspians, or had the Yarkspians created them? “We are the paladins of Voltron. We received an emergency call for help from this planet.”

Klank nodded. “Ice debris is aimed to impact our homelands in .0239 gordanks.”

“Right...” Shiro trailed off. “Then you are the Yarkspians?”

Klank made a motion vaguely similar to a nod. “We are thee.”

“Good. We'll start evacuating you to our ship,” Shiro told the leader. “From there, we can determine a safe habitat for you and your people and help you settle there. For now though, we need to focus on your people's safety.”

“This is something we can agree on, paladin.”

Klank and Shiro ordered the Yarkspians around, and the robots moved according to their leader's cries. Their metal joints clicked, their red eyes glowed, and their low voices hummed. Shiro wasn't surprised to see any children. Why would someone build a child robot? But it still made him uneasy. Were these truly the Yarkspians, or were they robots programmed to invade the Castleship? Shiro paled at that. What if this was just a Galran trick? The paladins had been dragged into false SOS's more times than Shiro could count on both hands. And these things- these non-organic beings- they appeared to be sentient... But what if it was in their programming?

“ _Shiro?”_ Allura's voice was soothing to his ears over their communicators. _“Your heart rate just spiked. Is everything alright?”_

Shiro could feel his fellow paladins' nerves and concern flowing through their mental link, but he shrugged it all off. “I'm fine, Princess. Keith, Hunk, how are we looking with the evacuees?”

“ _Almost done,”_ Hunk replied. _“One more trip with three lions should do it.”_

“Great.” Shiro could feel a bead of sweat developing as he turned to Klank. “Would you accompany me, Klank? The rest of your people are safe now, and we've got only a few minutes before the asteroids hit.”

“Your earthling minutes are the equivalent of a .00056th of a gorbosh.” Shiro tilted his head in confusion at the fun-fact, but quickly reminded himself of his manners.

“I see. Well, then, we've only got a few .00056ths of a gorbosh to get back to the Castleship. Would you like to ride on the black lion with me, or with one of the other lions with your people?”

Klank's glass eyes didn't allow for them to narrow any eyelids, but the lights behind the screens dimmed and brightened in a way that told Shiro the being had done so. “Your essence has alerted me that you have questions. I shall ride with the black paladin. He is worthy of asking such questions, as he has saved my people.”

“Um... right.”

Klank and Shiro entered the black lion, Shiro settling at the helm and Klank curling in half-way in a position Shiro assumed was sitting. Klank had said Shiro had questions, and in all honesty, he _did..._ but how did Klank know he did?

As the black lion took off, Shiro muted his comm unit and turned in his seat to look at Klank. Klank looked back at him (or Shiro _thought_ they were looking back at him). “Ask your questions, paladin of Voltron.”

“Who built you?”

If Klank were capable of it, they probably would have bristled. “The Creator built Ooloth, and Ooloth is our Father. Ooloth was scavenged for parts once his reign ended, as those following him were, and as I shall be when my reign ends.”

“What do you all run off of?” Robots didn't have feelings, so Shiro couldn't be hurting Klank's feelings with all of these questions... right? Besides, Pidge had probably asked way more invasive questions to the other Yarkspians. She had probably even asked to run tests of some of them, knowing the woman.

“We operate just as you do, earthling.”

Shiro's brows furrowed. “How? You're-” _not sentient, robots, not_ _ **alive**_ “-not human.”

“We are alive, black paladin, despite your misgivings.”

_Holy shit. Can these guys read minds?_

“You are most likely deducing that I can read your mind. This is false, paladin. I am reading your biological outputs and deducing conclusions of my own, just as you are. To answer your unvoiced question, paladin, yes- we are alive. We operate just as you do, although our inner workings are less vulnerable than your human ones.”

“But... what makes you alive? How are you running? Is it solar energy, or electricity?”

“We run off our essence, as do you, paladin.”

Shiro's grip on the black lion's control handles tightened, and the lion rumbled to him in complaint. “What essence?”

“Quintessence, of course.”

Grip going slack, Shiro's eyes went wide. “I- we- what?”

“You see metal plates and joints,” Klank told him, “but you do not see our quintessence. Just as we see flesh and bone, but not _your_ quintessence. It is something all living beings have, however.”

“I'm more metal plates and joints than flesh and bone at this point in my life,” Shiro informed Klank bitterly. Then, his eyes bulged. “I-I apologize, I mean no disrespect-”

Klank waved a few legs in the air as if to brush off the apology. “Humanoids have narrower processing abilities than us robessences.”

“... _Robessences_?”

“Yes,” Klank said, “we may have parts that appear to you as robotic, but we contain our own quintessence and our own inner workings. Just as you do, paladin. You appear as robotic, but you contain quintessence. By my scans, you contain much of it. You have excellent health, paladin, as well as mental facilities. Despite your narrower processing abilities, you are a good being.”

Shiro looked down at his lap. Klank had called him a _being_ , not a _human_. Because he wasn't human. Not anymore. Shiro had more in common with the Yarkspians than his own race.

“Human or nigh, you contain quintessence, paladin,” Klank reminded him, drawing Shiro from his thoughts. “You have saved us Yarkspians from utter doom. This means you believe us worthy of saving, despite our own robotic tendencies. Why is that?”

“Because you're people!” Shiro spoke emphatically. “Because you- you're alive...” he murmured now, coming to the realization- the deduction- that Klank had been egging him on to. “You contain life, quintessence, just like we do... Just like _I_ do.”

Klank could have smiled then, but lacking the muscles to do so, they merely chirped happily. “You are a smart paladin. Yes, you shall do well.”

“Do well? What do you mean?”

They were touching down in the Castleship's hangar now, their conversation coming to a close.

“In the fight for the multiverses, of course,” Klank told Shiro as they rose from their rolled-up position.

“Multiverses?”

“More is at risk in this war than you know, paladin,” Klank brushed a cold, steel arm against Shiro's shoulder as the black lion's mouth opened, tongue extending as a bridge for them to exit. “Yes. Yes, you shall do just fine, being.”

And for some reason, Shiro didn't mind not being called 'human'. He very well wasn't. Part human, maybe, but he was more machine than man. That didn't, however, take away any of his worth. It didn't take away his quintessence.

“Thank you, Klank.”

“These are conclusions you would have drawn for yourself,” Klank assured him. “I merely was a catalyst.”

“Thank you anyways,” Shiro told them as he followed them down the black lion's tongue. “I owe you one.”

“You have saved my people, paladin. We shall 'call ourselves even', as humans say.”

Shiro smiled.

 

**//found//**

**four years after**

 

Seven years. Seven years had passed. Seven birthdays, seven Hanukkahs, seven New Years. Pidge was an adult now. She was twenty-one years old. Her brother was nearing his thirty-third birthday. Their mother and Pidge had both missed the big 3-0 for Matt, had missed the big 5-0 for Samuel. Every time she thought about it, Pidge felt her heart cracking even more, threatening to break. The only reason she hadn't shattered over it all was because of the others. Because of Shiro, Lance, Keith, Hunk, Allura, Coran- her pseudo-family.

Around the three year mark, Pidge had lost hope in finding her father and brother. She had even gotten into a screaming match with _Shiro_ of all people about it. Of course, it only took them a few hours to come back around to each other and apologize in fits of tears. Ever since then, Pidge hadn't lost hope once more. Sure, her belief of finding her father and brother wavered- seven whole years would do that to a person- and she often grew terrified of what state she would find them in, if they would even be _alive_ , but there was always a tiny kernel of hope stored away behind her breastbone. Hunk had told her once that her father and Matt were too smart for the Galra empire to just do away with, that their brains would keep them alive. Pidge wasn't sure if that was better or worse. Had the weapons and robeasts the paladins had been fighting over the past years been built by her family? She shuddered at the thought.

It was nighttime when Shiro pounded on her door, nearly four AM, and denting the metal. Pidge was awake, of course, staring into the mirror at her scars like she always did after nightmares. On the left side of her face was a long red tattoo, and on the right side was a long pink scar. Around a year after her capture, when Pidge was eighteen, she awoke in the dead of night due to another night terror. In her daze of panic and confusion, she took a knife to her skin and cut off the tattoo on her right cheek. Keith, on one of his nightly rounds, found her and rushed her to a healing pod. The scar had never healed right, but Pidge could at least stand it. What she couldn't stand was the tattoo on her left cheek, or growing her hair out. Any time her hair grew longer than a few centimeters, Pidge would shave it all off, Haggar's crooning whispers loud in her ears.

So Pidge was awake when Shiro pounded on her door, screaming bloody murder. Pidge was already throwing on her armor when the door slid open, Shiro appearing wide-eyed and grinning.

“We found him. We found Matt.”

The plan was that Pidge and Shiro sneak in while Keith and Lance caused a distraction. Hunk operated as air-support and extraction team. It was a simple plan, but one that should have gone off without a hitch. Of course, them being _them_ , the team managed to enact Murphy's Law.

Pidge panted heavily, bleeding from multiple cuts and wincing at her many bruises, and looked up from beneath her bangs at Haggar. Her eyes were blown wide, her mouth open in horror as flashbacks wrought her mind. On the floor, curled up in pain, Shiro shouted for her to snap out of it, to come back to them. Hunk was lying against the back wall, Lance frantically trying to stop the vicious gush of blood leaving Hunk's torso. Keith was the only other one standing, although his broken arm and sprained ankle kept him from doing too much. Cells of prisoners lined the walls, all of them screaming and becoming rabid as they saw the paladins losing.

“ _Katie_!” Shiro called out to Pidge, “We're here! We're with you! We aren't leaving you!”

Keith inched towards Pidge, trying to get into her line of sight. Touching Pidge during a flashback was a big no-no. Getting her attention was the best way to rip her from the horrors in her mind. But no matter how close Keith got, how much he waved his hands, Pidge only had eyes for Haggar.

The witch threw her head back and laughed, a horrible cackle that filled the room and made the prisoners shriek. Pidge trembled, a low gasp ripping from her lips. Keith wanted nothing more than to reach out and shake her shoulders, try to get the woman to snap out of it, but he knew the action would do more harm than good.

“KATIE!” Shiro was practically roaring, his hoarse voice nearly drowned out by Haggar's laugh and the crackling of lightning in the woman's hands. Haggar was drawing quintessence from the cosmos, her hands raised towards the open ceiling which showed space beyond. “KATIE!”

“ _KATIE_!”

And _that_ wasn't Shiro.

Pidge startled, not quite drawn from her horrifying visions yet. Her head tilted to the side as the familiar voice called out her name once more, louder this time. “ _KATIE_!”

“M-Matt...” Pidge whimpered, eyes widening even further as a figure in a dark gray bodysuit dropped from the open roof, rolling into a ball and coming to stop next to Haggar. He swept a leg out, knocking Haggar over and making her lightning dissipate. The man unfurled and stood, his heavy brown shawl drooping around him. He pulled the top of it down to reveal his mouth, ripped goggles off of his head to show bright brown eyes.

Pidge sobbed in disbelief. “ _Matt_.”

“Katie,” Matt said back, taking a step towards Pidge.

That was when Haggar struck. The witch leaped to her feet faster than Pidge thought her capable of, wrenching a long, jagged ceremonial knife from her robes. She lifted it over her head, ready to bring it down on Matt's back.

“ _NO_!”

Pidge didn't realize what she had done until afterward, when the smoke dissolved. Her vision went white, molten rage filling her body and expelling from her fingertips. Pidge drew from herself, drew from the nebulae above, pulled quintessence from the cosmic dust around her. And she fired.

Pink lightning jolted through Haggar's body so hard that the witch's bones lit up beneath her thin skin. Smoke came up from her burning hair and robes, and her mouth opened up in a screech similar to that of the Wicked Witch of the West's. Pidge roared as she shot out electricity, her shout empowering her attack and making it glow brighter. Haggar _dropped_ , her skin turning to ash and bones collapsing into a pile amidst flaming fabric.

Pidge fell to her knees, and a pair of hands dragged her into a strong embrace. “Katelyn,” Matt sobbed out, burying his face in the young woman's hair. “Oh God, oh _fucking_ \- I found you. I finally _found you_ -”

She couldn't speak, couldn't see, couldn't _breathe_. Her brother was here, he was okay, he was holding her once more like she was a small child again.

And then, she started bawling. Pidge wrapped her burned hands around Matt's body, ignoring the pain that shot through her arms. A hand touched her back, rubbing there. Another set of arms encased both Pidge and Matt. Hands rested on Pidge and Matt both, holding the siblings together while simultaneously lifting them up and dragging them back to the green lion.

After a short period in the cryo-pods, Pidge emerged into the loving embrace of her older brother. Matt had scars and a beard, blind in one eye (Lance instantly jumped on the blind-buddies train), and hair that was pulled back into a long ponytail. Pidge called him Mountain-Man and he called her Baldy, and the two hugged and didn't separate for hours.

Their father was dead, Matt reported. He had died years earlier, in the same battle that helped Matt escape with a rebel group. They trained him, and he learned how to survive in the cold expanses of space. His rebellion was destroyed a year earlier, and he had been on his own since. After hearing about Voltron and seeing wanted posters of its paladins, Matt recognized his little sister and set about finding her. Resourceless and without a clue of where to start, Matt had been searching for Pidge for four years. Pidge told him she had been searching for seven, and the man began bawling anew.

The siblings were inseparable for months, training and eating and bunking together. Shiro became a permanent figure at Matt's side as well, but allowed the older man space with Pidge. It wasn't until Pidge shouted for the two to just get a room that Pidge and Matt went their separate ways for a few hours. Matt and Shiro emerged from Shiro's quarters the next morning, holding hands and grinning.

As Pidge sat down at the table for breakfast, she looked around the room. Lance was chattering on loudly to Keith, who was nodding along, making quiet “Mm-hm”s here and there as he loaded his husband's plate up with food. Hunk was talking to Coran with a smile, spoon-feeding the mice as he did. Allura and Matt were in deep conversation about nearby hospitable planets, and Shiro sat next to Matt with their fingers interlaced.

Resting her cheek on her fist, Pidge grinned at her family. Her heart was healing. Slowly, but still... Reaching a hand up to rub at her ears, Pidge realized her hair had grown out long enough for her fingers to sink into it. With a hum, she thought to herself, _Maybe I'll grow it out._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Pls send help I killed myself with this fic.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, guys!! There will probably be one more fic in this 'Scars Series', but I haven't decided what it'll be about...? Any ideas? I'm open!! Once more, thank you so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!!


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